the world is an awful place and, in these dark times, it is up to us to make the best of things lest we fall into that unholy hell of darkness and silence where far too much of my time has been stolen from me. || Angel Hart Original Character Unaffiliated with any Fandom
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hey guys!! This blog is about to be an archive, and y’all can find me over at angelliicharts
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hey guys!! This blog is about to be an archive, and y’all can find me over at angelliicharts
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i have returned from the abyss. will be working on things tomorrow morning.
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tieflingsweetheart:
The demon nodded a bit, not sure how to feel about the soft affection from Angel. He felt like he liked it, but it wasn’t something Wrath often experienced and his first instinct was to pull his hand away. He managed to stop himself though, keeping it there, holding Angels as softly as he could. Christians head lulled against the wall, knees pulled up so he could rest his other arm on them. “Yes, ice after heat. Maybe some advil. Definitely some water. I have to get my boy back in good shape so I can do this to you all over again.” He chuckled, breaking into a small smirk.
Angel purred, shifted so he could press his cheek to Wrath’s shoulder, breathe in that warm, familiar smell. “If y-you’re, you’re gen-gent-tle en-enough, we, we ca-can have a, a li-litt-little af-aft-ter thi-thing. I thi-think-k I, I mi-might-t be, be able t-to go ag-again.” It’s a stretch of the truth, honestly he just wants to sleep again after this warm bath. If he has to wait days before he gets to have this again, though, he’s not going to waste time moaning about his physical pain.
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i’ll have my life more together soon i’m sorry for all the missed threads and everything falling apart i’m just a mess sometimes u feel me guys
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reblog and put in the tags at what age mental illness started affecting you
#ptsd //#depression //#literally around like eight it started hitting hard#i stopped going to therapy and everything just imploded#had such severe anxiety in third grade i'd rather wet my pants than ask to go to the bathroom#was missing for several weeks during fifth and sixth grade due to ulceric issues#literally the list goes on
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yeah so my friend slept through her alarm this morning and i didn’t wanna spam her with texts so i went and slept in my car for half an hour which is why i wasn’t on this morning...
and tonight i’m gonna try and knock out coding stuff on aliienaticn so i can do stuff over there too
and right now i’m in class so like... if u wanna talk to me i’m doing okay i just had some stuff going on and yeah but pm me if u want idk
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um also if anyone happens to follow me over @aliienatcd um... i kinda... locked myself out. so now i’m @aliienaticn
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cool so i should be on for a bit tomorrow morning and then i’m probably going to disappear until like... thursday.
#i have a lot of stuff this week#my chem final and a lot of work and sunday is my birthday#and it's just been a rough week#| out of character |
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Apologies for not being on lately. Going through some stuff
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I fucking slept through my chemistry test wtf
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dysxn:
I really want a plot with a werewolf that has been in wolf form for a long time and/or has lived in the woods most of their life with their family. A human moves into an old cottage/home in their woods and at first they don’t like them and they get angry but they notice that the human is all alone and has no pack so they go visit from time to time and sometimes will leave a small dead animal on the porch and the human is confused until they see this enormous wolf one day. But the wolf slowly moves closer each day until one day they’re just hanging out on the porch and the human thinks it’s okay to pet them and over time they make friends with it until one day they wake up and there’s a random human asleep on their couch, screaming ensues, and the stranger sort of cough barks out their name because their vocal chords are still getting used to this again and they’re like hey human it’s me relax and things go from there.
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when i was 12 i babysat this girl for a few years and she would come to me and show me her art, drag me by my wrists and point at the pieces she’d made during the week. and she’d be like “do the voice” and i’d put on a sports-announcer olympics-style voice and be like “such form! this level of coloring! why i haven’t seen such perfection in crayola in a long time. and what is this? why jeff, now this is a true risk… it seems she’s made … a monochrome pink canvas…. i haven’t seen this attempted since winter 1932… and i gotta say, jeff, it’s absolutely splendid” and she’d fall back giggling. at the end of every night she’d check with me: “did you really like it?” and i’d say yes and talk about something i noticed and tucked her in.
she was just accepted into 3 major art schools. she wrote me a letter. inside was a picture from when she was younger. monochrome pink.
“thank you,” it said, “to somebody who saw the best in me.”
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i don’t care if you’re wearing joey ramone’s leather jacket and some vintage doc martens with 3,058 studs on your jeans. if you’re racist, homophobic, transphobic, anti-semitic, misogynistic, or ableist then you are not punk
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